


blame myself for thinking we both understood

by cakesnake, nosecoffee



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: 5 + 1, A little bit of angst, Comedy, Dirk Typical Humour, Dirk's Signiture Quirkiness, Dress shopping, Drinking, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Flower Shops, Fluff, Foster families, Found Families, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Legit this a rom-com, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Weddings, tragic backstories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 08:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakesnake/pseuds/cakesnake, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nosecoffee/pseuds/nosecoffee
Summary: "Todd, this is Dirk." She says, bumping her shoulder against Todd's and smiling brightly at the both of them. "I was telling you about him, the other night." Amanda wiggles her eyebrows at Todd.Todd gets the gist. He's finally meeting her fiancé. Thank fucking god.And.Oh no, he's fucking cute, fuck.(Or, five times Todd let his life become a goddamn rom-com, and one time he took control)





	blame myself for thinking we both understood

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Boyfriend" by Teagan and Sara
> 
> This was gonna be a lot shorter than it turned out

**1.**

They're drinking when Amanda brings it up. They're drinking, and they're hanging out, just the two of them, for the first time in Todd doesn't know how long. Todd’s been working long hours and not been home a lot and Amanda just got back from a vacation somewhere in South America.

(Todd got locked out of his Facebook account ages ago and hasn't been able to get back in, so any vacation photos he wants to see he’ll have to ask for, and Todd’s too much of a coward for that, so he’ll settle for the spoken word, for now.)

They're drinking and they're catching up when Amanda decides to tell him.

"I'm, um, I'm getting married." She says, and then shoots him what actually _couldn't possibly be_ a nervous look but does appear to be a nervous look.

"Oh." Todd says. He doesn't really register it. He'd known she'd been dating someone for a while, now, but had never caught a name. It doesn't quite come as a surprise to Todd, as Amanda has always been in a rush to make absolutely certain that the good things in her life stuck around.

Her fiancé is no different matter, apparently.

"Oh," he says, again, and puts his beer down in the coffee table, enveloping Amanda in his arms. "Congrats. You made it before me."

Amanda snorts. "Mom and dad will be so proud." She hugs him back, and he's really glad about that.

He then proceeds to half-sleep through her engagement story - ‘cause he's a goddamn lightweight and he's going to quit his job soon, he is, the hours are killing him, and the hotel’s shitty, anyways - and Todd continues to not catch her fiancé's name or defining features.

Todd fully awakens when she shoves a piece of bread at him, still talking at high speed, and Todd takes the toast from her, wordlessly.

"And, god, Todd, when you meet him, you'll love him, I swear." Amanda says, wandering over to his bed and proceeding to pass out on it, the sparkle of a silver engagement ring catching his eye from the kitchen light.

"Yeah." Todd agrees and bites into the burnt toast.

He still didn't catch a name. It's probably too late to ask, now.

~

Amanda drags him down to the bar, only a few days later, and he has officially quit his job, now, so he's assuming this is celebration, but Amanda has been known to often have ulterior motives. Todd is really not loving the idea of every week night being a drinking night, but he lets her do it, because she's getting married now, and since when has he ever been able to fight her, anyway?

He's halfway through his first beer when Amanda drags this redhead in a yellow jacket and a blue tie patterned with unicycles over to the bar from the jukebox, thrusting a margarita into his hand. "Todd, this is Dirk." She says, bumping her shoulder against Todd's and smiling brightly at the both of them. "I was telling you about him, the other night." Amanda wiggles her eyebrows at Todd.

Todd gets the gist. He's finally meeting her fiancé. Thank fucking god.

And.

_Oh no, he's fucking cute, fuck._

"Right, right." Todd offers Dirk (what kind of a dumb ass name was that?) his hand and they shake, and Todd pretends that he isn't going to die on the fucking spot because of course Amanda’s marrying exactly the kind of guy Todd didn't realise was his type. Amanda looks pleased. Dirk smiles like the goddamn Tellytubby Sun, taking a sip from his margarita. "Dirk, hi. Congrats, or whatever."

For some reason, Dirk blushes at this, and glances at Amanda, who gives him a bright nod. "Oh, uh, thanks. I think."

Amanda claps Dirk on the shoulder. "I'll leave you two to it." And with that she's off, back to the jukebox to talk to a dude with a white Mohawk and a leather jacket.

Dirk's smile changes, something a little more hesitant, but still sunny as fuck. "I didn't know it was out there or anything, yet, but I suppose..."

"Yeah, no," Todd says, hastily, feeling weirdly guilty about the loss of some sunny disposition, and god how many metaphors about the sun will Todd apply to this guy? It's already hard enough to look at him without wanting to hit on him without wondering if this is how Icarus felt about the sun. "I've just never heard of you before, and then Amanda..."

"Amanda's great." Dirk says, nodding quickly. "I'm so glad she's in my life."

"Yeah, me too, bud." Todd says. He wonders why Amanda seems to date all the people that Todd wishes he had the balls to ask out.

'Cause Dirk...he feels like Todd's kind of weird.

~

"So." Todd says, after a few minutes of silence while they drink their respective beverages. "Where'd you meet my sister?"

Dirk looks up like a deer in the headlights, as if he was assuming that Todd wouldn't speak to him for the rest of the night. "Um, why?" He asks, sounding more timid than makes Todd comfortable.

"Just making sure you're worthy and all that shit." Todd says, waving his hand in an attempt to be nonchalant. He is not nonchalant. He is so far from nonchalant. His sister is marrying a man practically made of sunshine.

"Oh, well, uh, we met at her work, a couple months ago." Dirk says. He puts his margarita glass down on the bar and turns to fully face Todd.

"Months?" He really shouldn't be shocked. After all, this was Amanda they were talking about. "Geez, that's not...well, I guess I can't fault her. Amanda's always known what she wants."

"Yeah. You're telling me." Dirk laughs, a little, and rubs the back of his neck, shooting Todd another Tellytubby Sun smile. "She fixed up my car. And then I bought her coffee and we really hit it off. And then...well."

"I see." She fixed his car and let him take her out for coffee. That seems about right. Amanda's always been a sucker for nice cars. Dirk must have a pretty nice car to have charmed his sister into coffee and eventually engagement. Amanda was shit at driving, and had never passed the test, herself, which was why she liked other people's cars so much. "How long ago was the engagement?"

"Only a couple weeks ago." Dirk says, looking wistful. Weeks. That was how long it'd taken her to tell him. Considering where she was with their parents, they probably didn't know yet. "It was really pretty."

Todd nods, not actually that interested in seeing engagement photos. "I hope to see some photos."

  
“They're up on her Facebook page.”

“I don't have Facebook.”

"Ah, well, I guess you'll just have to wait. Farah's getting them processed." Dirk says, absently, and orders another margarita.

Todd, one beer in and already feeling a bit dizzy, sighs, propping his cheek up with his flat palm. "God, I haven't seen Farah in ages." He says.

"You know Farah?" Dirk sounds surprised. Todd decides he actually rather likes that tone on Dirk. He resolves to surprise him more often.

"Through Amanda." Todd says, waving a hand - the nonchalant hand of a man who is in no way at all nonchalant - and smiling, a little.

"Ah." Dirk nods, and fiddles with the cuff of his jacket. "I met Farah through Lydia Spring."

Todd pauses, rolling the name around in his head. "Lydia Spring?" He says, and the name rolls off his tongue, the way it had rolled off of all of those news reporters tongues. Lydia Spring, missing. Lydia Spring, orphan. Lydia Spring, found and returned home, safe and sound. "You mean the billionaire heiress? The one that went missing?"

"The very same." Dirk nods, with a self-satisfied smirk. "I met Farah when I was hired to find her."

"Hired to find..." Todd shouldn't feel this absentminded. Since when was he a lightweight? Or maybe it was that thing where he instinctively played dumb around attractive people. Either way, Todd can't remember if Dirk mentioned what he did for a living. "...wait, what is it you do again?"

"I'm a...private detective. Once found, after her father's funeral, Lydia invested in an agency for me. So, I'm in the process of getting that up and running." He gives a small scowl to the floor, before his lips quirk up, again. "The engagement, of course, has put that on hold, so I'm pretty busy at the moment."

"I can imagine." His sister is marrying a private detective who was in cahoots with Lydia Spring. His parents must be giddy.

If Amanda's told them, yet.

(Oh, god, Dirk, the friend of a billionaire heiress, must have a _really_ nice car.)

~

"Hey, Dirk?" He's only two thirds through his second beer, but Todd obviously hadn't eaten enough, earlier, if the blurriness was anything to go by.

"Hm?" Dirk replies. Todd has no idea where Amanda is. The spot she was occupying by the jukebox is vacant, once more. Todd really hopes she hasn't left. Amanda is notorious for getting quite thoroughly lost, by accident.

"You be good to my sister." Todd says, as seriously as he can muster.

"Of course." Is Dirk’s response.

"Because, if you're not," the reply is on his lips before he can filter it, "I'll have to hunt you down with an ax."

"That sounds unfortunate." Todd's glad that that unadvised comment seemed to amuse Dirk, rather than scare him off. He adopts a jokingly monotone voice. "Please don't."

"If it came to it, you only brought it on yourself." Todd says, and Dirk nods along.

"True." He agrees and takes another sip of his third margarita. He gives the glass an indignant look. "I don't want to ruin the wedding by tripping when there's dancing. Did Amanda mention I'm hopeless at dancing?"

"She didn't." Says Todd, quietly. Of course he seemed perfectly fine, but he was born with two left feet. That seems about right. "That’s okay. Amanda’s pretty hopeless, herself. You two will probably be quite a sight.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. Not at all. Dancing is the best thing about weddings."

"Well, I guess if I dance, the whole wedding will be ruined." Dirk says, laughing resignedly, as if accepting his fate. That won't do.

"I might have a solution for that." Todd says.

~

"You stepped on my foot again." Todd tries to keep the annoyance out of his voice, and laughs a little as Dirk grasps his waist a little tighter than strictly necessary.

"Sorry, sorry. I've always been pretty crap at formal dancing." Dirk chuckles a little as he takes a step back, and Todd takes a step forward. There’s a step to the side, and then a step forward again, and Dirk laughs, seemingly at nothing, maybe simply at the situation. Todd can’t help a small smile.

"Don't worry. I am too, I've just had a lot of practice at faking it. Follow my lead, and you'll be fine."

Dirk steps forward like he’s leading, and god steps backwards to avoid being stepped on, and all of a sudden roles are reversed, and they’re looking into each other’s eyes, like the other has the answer as to why this is happening.

Dirk trips into Todd, and Todd takes another step backwards, at which point Dirk  
starts moving double time, which is frantically fast.

Somehow, Dirk kicks _himself_ in the shin, and he doubles over, sending the jaw that Todd has _definitely_ not noted the chiseled quality of, into Todd’s shoulder, and he breaks away.

"Maybe Lydia Spring should have invested in dance lessons for you.” Todd rubs his shoulder, wincing a little.

"Amanda's right. You're a bit of an asshole, with only a smidgen of a sense of humour." Dirk smiles, even as he bends to rub his shin, and Todd notes a hint of reason to go along with it. The man obviously wants to bond. Be on the right side of Amanda’s family. This is not flirting.

( _Get your goddamn act together, Brotzman, you are better than this._ )

"Amanda said that about me?" He acts the part of offended, playing along as he's hoping Dirk wants him to.

"No, I just wanted to see your reaction.” The grin that follows is answer enough. “The quip was quite witty. Did you take a seminar? I think there are seminars for things like that."

  
Todd is honestly confused at the earnestness of the statement. And, for that matter, the earnestness of everything he says.

"The drunker you get, the less I understand where your train of thought goes.” He tells Dirk, as if it makes any kind of difference.

  
"Oh, it jumps tracks all the time, I wouldn't bother trying to understand where my mind goes." Dirk waves a hand and sits down, seemingly done with dancing.

Todd nods (hah) and folds his arms across his chest. "Duly noted."

~

  
**2.**

Todd's not gonna lie. The florist glowering at him makes him feels pretty uncomfortable. He's actually _really_ uncomfortable.

The florist currently speaking to Amanda and Dirk seems perfectly pleasant and enthusiastic, but the red headed woman watering the orchids who keeps looking at him like if he makes one wrong move she’ll kill him - yeah, Todd’s not that thrilled about her.

What really confuses Todd is the fact that they're at a florist at all. For as long as Todd’s known her, Amanda’s had no interest in flowers. She's too punk rock for that shit, but either Dirk’s softened her or Dirk wants flowers, because here they are, organising floral arrangements for the wedding.

The florist speaking to Dirk and Amanda, whose name tag reads, simply, “Ken”, nods at something Dirk says and Dirk makes a noise, and says something along the lines of, “That's perfect!”

Amanda smiles at him and types something out on her phone. Obviously making notes. So it's not Amanda’s decision, it's Dirk who wants the flowers. That makes a lot of sense.

“You look like you’re not looking for flowers.” Says a gravelly voice and Todd jumps. It's the red headed florist who was glowering at him. She rolls her eyes at his soft gasp, crossing her arms over her chest. “Relax, I don't bite. Much.”

The fact that she bares her teeth just makes it more unnerving. Her name tag reads “Bart” with three letters afterwards crossed out with a permanent marker.

“What does that mean?” Todd asks, nearly backing into a display of roses, arranged into colour order.

Bart shrugs, whatever is in her watering can sloshing in her hand. “You seem caught looking at something that ain't flowers.” She jerks her chin in the direction of Todd’s companions.

Todd shakes his head, vigorously. “No, no, no, I'm just keeping an eye on them. They're making executive decisions on the flowers. I'm just here as moral support.” Todd touches a flower near him, briefly, giving Bart a look that he hopes appeals to his case. “I don't even know what this is.”

“That's a Bird of Paradise.” Bart tells him, snorting a little. “You're such a cliché.”

Todd only feels vaguely insulted. “How?” He asks, genuinely curious, if not guarded.

“You've gotten stuck pining in a time-sensitive situation. It can only end one of two ways. You do nothing, nothing comes of it, you forget about him, or you do nothing, nothing comes of it, and you regret it for the rest of your life.” She shrugs again, obviously speaking as honestly as she can, if the uncomfortable set of her shoulders is anything to go by. “I say, you may as well risk it. He'd at least be all nice like when he breaks your heart. If he breaks your heart.”

“Gee, thanks,” Todd says, sarcastically, not really wanting to think about Dirk even being in any kind of position to break his heart. “But I have no intention of-”

“It can only end in heartbreak, if you do nothing.” She says to him in what he supposes could be classified as a sing-song tone, except that her voice is like _gravel_.

“What would you know about it?” Todd demands, annoyed that she even thinks he’d have a shot with Dirk.

“Well, for one, I've been putting off my feelings for a friend for as long as I've known him and I'm still regretting not doing anything while he had a glimmer of interest in me.” Bart’s smile turns down, and she suddenly looks a little less manic, a little more sad. It makes Todd feel bad. She clears her throat, as if it will help her voice at all. “For two, I know that guy - Dirk Gently? I kinda sorta grew up with him. He's always taking risks. I think he'd probably be somehow even more in your favour if you took a risk for _him_.”

Maybe that’s why Dirk wanted flowers. Maybe he specifically wanted Bart’s flowers, because they grew up together. That would make a lot of sense. Except, no, he’s not interested. He’s here as moral support and to grunt his approval of flower arrangements and choices. Nothing less, nothing more, nothing else. “Look, thanks for the advice, but I'm just here for flowers.” Todd says to her.

“Fine, fine.” Water sloshes out the end of her watering can as Bart raises her hands in surrender, expression becoming guarded. “Call me over if any of the roses need pruning or some shit.”

“Wait, hang on,” Todd backtracks, not liking the stormy look on her face. “Who was the guy you-?”

“None of your beeswax!” She cries, and stalks off, behind the counter and into the backroom.

Todd sighs.

“What did you say to her?” He jumps at the voice. It's the other florist, Ken. Amanda and Dirk are conversing quietly over by the ferns. Ken is giving him a half-amused half-curious look.

“Huh?” Todd asks. It seems like everyone in this goddamn shop leads with statements that need to be immediately clarified.

Ken shrugs. God, the _shrugging_. It's like they all insist on being casual with every movement. “Bart’s been led to think that ‘business’ is a bad word, and avoids using any substitute for it, as well, so if she used a substitute, you must have really pissed her off.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Todd begins to apologise, but Ken shakes his head and Amanda puts her hand on his shoulder, pulling him towards the door.

“It’s fine.” Amanda says, and drags him out of the store, Dirk trailing after them. “We’re done here, anyway, Todd. Thanks, Ken!”

She walks ahead of them, making a phone call. Dirk catches up and walks beside Todd, smiling brightly as even, his red leather jacket creaking as his arms swing. “Marzanna’s always been that way. Don’t worry about it.” Dirk says.

“‘Marzanna’?” Todd questions.

“Yeah, Bart.” Dirk jerks his chin in the direction of the flower shop. “Our foster parents called her Marzanna while we were with them.”

 _Foster parents_. That had never come up before. Todd supposes he probably should have been suspicious about the fact that the topic of Dirk’s parents had never come up, but _now_ …

“So she's your sister?” Todd asks, slowly.

Dirk purses his lips and shrugs. “Sort of.” He agrees.

“Are your parents - er, foster parents coming to the wedding?” He sees the sour expression Dirk’s face takes on at this question.

“God, I hope not.” Dirk replies, and tries to force the smile back on his face.

Todd swallows, hard. “What about you?”

“Hm?”

“What’d they call you?”

Stormclouds pass over Dirk’s face, and Todd recognises his cue to Never Mention That Topic Again, even if that isn’t the message Dirk is trying to convey. “They called me ‘Icarus’.” He says, softly, and they reach his car.

~

Todd was right. Dirk’s electric blue Corvette is _very_ nice. And Dirk is a _terrible_ driver. No wonder Amanda had to fix his car up. Dirk says it’s new. Amanda says it’s “ugly as fuck”.

(That crosses off “nice car” for reasons that Amanda might want to marry Dirk.)

In any case, it’s better than Todd’s banged up little _Mirage_.

~

The bakery they end up at is somehow worse than the flower shop. On arrival, Amanda is half-tackled to the floor by a small man in a red and black polka dot shirt and an apron. “Boss!” He cries and Todd’s never been more confused.

“Good to see you too, Vogel,” she laughs, and grabs at the back of his shirt to keep from falling down. Todd and Dirk meet eyes over the pile of limbs and Dirk answers Todd’s confused expression with a shrug and a smile.

Not helpful.

A man emerges from the back, icing on his shirt, and flour in his hair. Or maybe his hair is actually that blonde. His beard is dark, and his smile is incredibly wide. “Amanda!” He cries.

“Martin!” She yells from under the man who attacked her when they came in.

Todd is extremely confused at this point.

“Vogel, get off o’ her, she has a cake to test.” Martin knocks his elbow into Vogel’s side and once he's retreated gives Amanda a long hug. “C’mon sweetheart, what’ll it be? Vanilla, lemon, or chocolate first?”

And it may be Todd’s imagination, but she smiles at him like she never wants to look at anything or anyone else again in her life. “Why don’t you tell _me_ what to try first? You’re the expert after all.” She replies, in a coy voice. Dirk watches on with a happy face. Martin nods to Dirk over Amanda’s head. Dirk nods back.

And he, Martin, chuckles, in answer to Amanda. “You’re the boss, Boss.” He says to her. She smiles again.

She tries chocolate first, feeding Dirk a bit off an extra spoon, (he declares it “not too shabby,” and Martin gives him what could be classified as a pleasant look but one look in his eyes guarantees murder of the first degree), and after several more trials, an hour of shameless flirting, two other fairly burly guys showing up and hugging the life out of her before starting to bake, and a lot of consultation, she decides on lemon.

Martin grins. “I shoulda known you’d choose that. Always were classy.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She replies.

Todd has to look away at that point, and all he can think is ‘ _Poor Dirk_ ’, even as the man stands, obliviously, by his side.

~

The last venue that they visit, not too far outside of Seattle, is an actual, legitimate castle. Dirk looks very dubious about this.

“Amanda, imagine if it rained,” Dirk tries to say, “everything would smell weird-”

“It’s got a moat!” Amanda cries, standing not three steps from the car.

Todd gets out of the car and Dirk follows, making a frustrated sound.

“But, Amanda, don't you prefer that paddle boat we went on?” Dirk suggests, sounding as if he's pushing more at the boat than he's trying to. “I thought you said it was ‘quaint’?”

“‘Quaint’ doesn't mean I want to get married on it.” Amanda quips, picking up her sling bag and pushing up the sleeves of her jacket. “Plus, Gripps gets seasick.”

“Then toss Gripps from the wedding party!” Dirk bursts out and Todd nearly jumps at the volume of his voice. “It's a _paddle boat_ , Amanda!”

“Maybe I want to get married in a castle, Dirk!” She yells back. Todd has never seen them fight before. Amanda looks like she's having more fun than Dirk is. Dirk looks desperate to get married on the paddle boat that Todd had thrown up on, at both age twelve and thirty-three. Todd decides not to tell him.

“But - Amanda-” Dirk sounds out of reasons, and Amanda looks like she's within inches of defeating him.

“Natalie Wood went missing on a boat, didn't she?” Dirk stops short, and then goes red. Amanda nods in triumph. “That's exactly what I thought. Come on, Todd. We’ve gotta check out this awesome castle that I could get married in if _someone_ lightened up and gave up on the fucking paddle boat.”

As it turns out, the castle is really great, and has lots of nooks and crannies available during the reception to mill in. The guide shows them the best last - a huge ballroom, tucked away, at the back of the castle.

Dirk suddenly brightens up. “Todd! _Todd_! Like you taught me! We should test it out!” He runs out into the middle of the ballroom, turning a little, with his arms out, as if to demonstrate the space.

Todd blushes and looks to the guide, who looks very unimpressed with this development, but makes no move to stop it. “Oh, no, Dirk, really-” Todd doesn't know why Dirk didn't call _Amanda_ over.

“C’mon!” Dirk pleads, holding out a hand. Todd glances at Amanda who smiles widely at him and signals with her hands for him to _go ahead_.

And Dirk steps on his feet, and Todd trips a little, but Amanda blasts _Paramore_ out of her phone and Todd can’t stop laughing so it's not like he regrets it. And dancing with Dirk, Dirk and his Tellytubby Sun smile, and his yellow leather jacket…

Well, it's not like Todd regrets _that_ , either.

~

**3.**

Farah has been everywhere. At least, that’s what she claims. Todd is willing to believe her, just going off the fact that she could probably kill him in five seconds flat with her bare hands and no hesitation whatsoever if she so wished.

(He hopes she doesn't.)

“I’ve even been to a shitty little town in the middle of Montana named, no joke, Bergsberg.” Farah says, as they lean on a desk in the local tailor shop and Todd tries not to stare at Dirk’s ass. “Beat _that_ , Brotzman.”

Todd’s not sure when it became a competition, but it has.

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.” Dirk says from where he’s being measured for his suit. “You say that as if breaking down on the way into that _shitty little town_ isn’t the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Farah huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. Dirk meets Todd’s eyes in the mirror and smiles widely.

“I'm missing something, here.” Todd notes, trying to prompt an explanation.

“I broke down just on the outskirts of Bergsberg and the sheriffs deputy picked me up.” Farah sighs, rotating her wrist in an effort to shift some smoothie off the inside of her takeaway cup. “We hit it off, got drunk, and she's my plus one to the wedding.”

“Ah.” Todd says, as if the explanation makes any sense at all to him. It really doesn't, but instead of voicing this, he takes a long sip from his lukewarm coffee.

“It was a good trip.” Dirk chips in.

Todd narrows his eyebrows. What on earth would Dirk be doing on a roadtrip through Montana with Farah? “You were there?” He asks.

“Of course I was, Todd, don't be daft.” Dirk replies, snorting and shaking his head, as if this was common knowledge. “I'm always where the action is happening.”

Farah snorts, at this, and jumps on top of the desk. Her legs swing as she steadies herself. “I'm pretty sure you're the reason we broke down, you and your death wish driving.” She accuses.

“My driving isn't that bad.” Dirk protests.

“Yes it is.” Todd says, and winces at the expression Dirk shoots him that very clearly reads _traitor_. “I'm sorry, but I seriously thought I was gonna die when you were driving.”

“Didn’t you tell me that when you first got your license you were so observant of road rules that you ran over a family of ducks?” Farah says, smirking, and Dirk goes white as a sheet, apparently disgusted that she'd ever say such a thing.

“No! Oh my god, Farah!” He cries, and the tailor grunts at him to _stay still_. “That's terrible!”

“Wait, no, that was Vogel.” She corrects herself, and Todd looks between the two of them, trying to connect the dots in his head. “Vogel ran them down and Martin bought him ice cream and that dumb polka dot top to apologise, right? Because Martin was so big on not swerving for animals?”

“Oh my god, it was.” Dirk sighs, still pale, but less horrified. “I remember that. Bart told me about that.”

“Jesus Christ.” Todd sighs and opens _Temple Run_ on his phone, well aware that they're going to be here for a while.

~

“So, all the wedding planning is going well?” Farah asks, collecting their coffees, and Todd handles paper bags of sandwiches and muffins.

“I think you're a little more involved in the wedding planning than I am, at this point.” He replies, a little distractedly.

“That's weird. You'd think Amanda would ask you to be her Maid Of Honour.” Todd snorts at the thought of it. The siblings might be close, but he knows she would ask a good friend, like Farah, or would have no Bridal Party at all. Todd was never in the running.

“She actually hasn't mentioned anything about it to me. Whoever she's chosen must be good, though.” Amanda wouldn’t choose someone she didn’t believe could handle the stress of the role.

Farah pauses, and Todd might be imagining the small smile that plays at their lips. “So you _don't_ know who her Maid Of Honour is?”

“Nope.”

“I see. And what about Dirk?” She almost giggles, that he can see and he’s a little irritated that he seems to be left out of a joke here.

“What _about_ Dirk?”

“How's he been dealing with all the wedding arrangements?”

“Incredibly well. Actually, the most stressed I've seen him was when they were picking a venue, and Amanda was on her phone through half of it.” Todd replies, flippantly. The only thing Farah has succeeded in, in this line of questioning, is pissing Todd off for seemingly no reason.

“Playing a game?” She asks, obviously trying to act natural.

“Texting someone, I think.” He replies, getting grumpier by the second, and starting to walk to the door of the cafe. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn't.” She says all too quickly. “I'm just messing with you. Let’s get these sandwiches back to Dirk before he tries to eat the tailor.”

~

Dirk waves his arms around in large gestures, that could be potentially damaging to passersby but does so with such pure enthusiasm, and Todd can’t help but be enthralled in the story he’s telling.

“...So this is of course the moment that I jump out of the burning apartment, holding this giant lizard to my chest, and hoping I'll survive the fall-”

“That is _not_ what happened.” Farah doesn’t even look up from her phone to interrupt him.

“Yes it is!” Dirk cries indignantly, leaning forward in his seat, long arms, dropped to his sides, looking just about ready to sulk.

“The building was one story!” Farah sits up with an amused smile on her face. “And only the kitchen was actually on fire. Also, it was a prize-winning iguana, not a ‘giant lizard’.”

“Farah, is it so bad that I would like one story where I rescue a lizard by jumping out of a burning building?” Dirk whines.

“I suppose there's nothing wrong with that.” She says. “Guess you’ll have to do that at some point.”

“Sometimes you tell the weirdest stories and then I remember that you do this shit for a living.” Todd chimes in, just because he needs to remind himself that this is an actual, legitimate story, of a real event, that Farah was presumably at.

“I've had serious cases.” Dirk says, a little defensively. Todd decides to challenge him.

“Like what?”

“Lydia Spring.” The answer is instantaneous, but Todd already knew about that.

“And?”

“...Puffles the missing horse was also quite a serious case…” Dirks tone is softer, sounds a little like he’s trying to convince even himself that it was a serious case.

“Oh, _Dirk_.” The pity in his voice is palpable, and Dirk looks a little angry at the prospect that he might be pitied.

“Don't! Either way, all variables were rescued. Be it a prize-winning iguana, a missing horse, or a girl hypnotised to thinking she's a dog for a week, I solved the case and I did it with arguable efficiency.” He folds his arms, lifts his chin, and sits back in his chair, losing his poise for a moment as he realises that the back of the chair is further back than he remembers it being, Todd muffles a laugh.

“How did Amanda manage to catch this one.” He asks Farah, quietly.

“Pure luck, I guess.”

But she smiles like she has a secret, like there’s something entirely too amusing about this situation, and Todd is starting to question why he ever leaves his house if this is how his friends act around him.

~

**4.**

Todd hasn’t said a word about the combat boots that Amanda has decided to pair with every dress she’s tried on, but he’s _this_ close to it. She keeps almost tripping over the dresses, and Todd has absolutely no doubt that those boots could rip each dress to shreds, with very little effort or difficulty. They’re great monsters of boots, and he winces every time she catches a piece of delicate lace with the sole.

She emerges from the change room in this huge ball gown style dress, that he can tell she hates from the minute he sees her face, but with the boots, and the layers of tulle trailing over the ground, he can practically hear the ripping sound echoing through time.

“Uh, Amanda, maybe heels with that one. It’s a bit long, and I don’t think you want to pay for a repair-“

“Don’t be silly, Todd, the boots look fun with it.” Dirk is grinning ear to ear, and shoving crisps into his mouth with reckless abandon. Todd still isn't sure why he’s here. He knows Amanda isn’t exactly traditional, but it seems odd to have the groom at the bridal boutique.

“Besides,” Amanda adds, “How am I supposed to know if they look good with the dress if I don’t wear them?”

“Wait, these are the shoes you’re wearing?”

Amanda takes on a defensive stance. “Yes.”

Todd thinks for a moment. It’s so like her to wear the huge boots for her wedding day, and he doesn’t want her to be anything but herself. “Cool. Very punk. But we might want to go for shorter dresses. That way they’ll be a statement piece, and you won’t ruin your dress.”

“I don’t wanna look tacky, Todd.”

“I’m not talking about tiny dresses. Below the knee, just not… anything with a train.”

She seems to think about the idea appraisingly. “Okay, we’ll have a look at that. But first, thoughts?”

Todds first thought is that it looks like a meringue. His second thought is that, like a meringue, it’s sickeningly sweet, and absolutely not Amanda’s style.

Dirk, who seems to have no filter, says it all. “It’s a bit too… much. There’s so much of it. And Todd’s right, it’s much too long, you can’t see the boots, or literally where anything below your waist is. It might be in a different dimension for all we know under all that tulle. Long story short, it’s awful, try again.” Dirk sits back in his seat, looking very pleased with himself.

Amanda turns her attention to Todd. “Your thoughts.”

He shrugs. “It’s a no from me?”

She nods resolutely and walks back into the change room.

“The dress was almost right for the venue, but so wrong for her.”

“She looked like a lemon meringue pie in the worst way.” Dirk says in agreement.

Todd stifles a chuckle at that. “So, what are you wearing?”

“I’ve been trying to get Amanda to come around to the idea of a rainbow tie-dyed suit, but I don’t think she’s going to budge from her black, white, and red scheme.” Dirk seems upset at the prospect, but Todd knows for a fact that Amanda is too stubborn to allow her husband-to-be to wear the eyesore of a suit that Dirk just described.

“She’s pretty set in her ways. I didn’t pick her as a bride-zilla.”

Dirk shrugs. “She’s not really. A lot of the decisions are made extremely collaboratively. Just, apparently, not on the subject of suits.”

“For the record, I think you’d look good in the scheme she’s picked out.” The words are out of Todd’s mouth before he thinks about them.

Dirk blushes a little, and looks down at the push rug. “You think so?”

Todd just nods, and is saved from himself by Amanda coming out of the dressing room in a new dress, cut off at mid-shin, with a wide skirt, and lace embellishment.

“Todd, I hate it.” She says, immediately, stomping as she goes to stand in front of them.

She’s right to not like it, it’s not her style. It’s a little too Grace Kelly, or Marilyn Monroe. Like it came out of the _Mad Men_ era, in a tasteful way, but it just hangs off her in the worst ways.

Both Todd and Dirk nod madly.

“Bad and wrong. Find something sleek. Long. Bohemian style, or maybe with a 1920’s style. Anything but _that_.” Dirk says.

Amanda purses her lips and raises her eyebrows at Todd.

“We might have to give up on the boots though, Amanda, Todd’s right, they'll rip through even the sturdiest material.”

Amanda groans and goes back to the change room.

~

“No, Vogel, that’s not what I meant- you know Cross will just bank on the boots, but Cross would have me get married in jeans and a leather jacket- I know that that’s still an option, but I want a dress. Yes. And what I’m asking is whether is whether it worth ripping the dress, just to have the shoes. Yeah. And they’re probably not going to be seen, because I want a long dress. Yes, there’s the problem.”

Amanda has been on the phone for at least fifteen minutes, the phone on the other end apparently being passed around at random, and she sounds exasperated, mostly by the situation, not by the game of phone-hot-potato going on at the other end.

Todd is getting tired of listening to it, honestly. The whole thing could be solved by her getting different shoes. Low heels. Even flats. If comfort is what she’s worried about, it really isn’t that hard to get around it while keeping that in mind.

But she seems distressed by it all.

And Dirk chooses this moment to sneak up on Todd.

“Come on, while she’s figuring out shoes, we should look for a few dresses for her.” Dirk whispers and at Todd’s unsure look, adds, “She seems very stressed.”

Todd just barely hears Amanda’s soft sigh of ‘ _Martin_ ’ into the phone, like this Martin can fix all of her problems, and Todd decides to stick with Dirk. He doesn’t need to hear his sister sound so in love with someone she’s not marrying.

“Okay.”

Dirk leads them into a room that is filled overwhelmingly with white and off white material.

“How the hell are we supposed to find _the_ dress in here?” Todd exclaims.

Dirk shrugs. “Start looking I guess.” And he starts walking up an aisle, legs obscured by white material.

“Oh my god.” Todd groans.

And Todd wades into the next aisle over.

~

“Todd, I found it!” Dirk cries and Todd pulls himself out of a rack of strapless dresses. He's honestly not sure how he ended up there, Amanda doesn't want a strapless dress, but he's there, all the same. “I really think I found it, this time.”

“Are you sure, because last time you said that, it was an empty dress bag, Dirk.” Todd calls back, looking both ways down the aisle of dresses and wondering which way will get him out of this room faster.

“No, this is a real dress, and it’s perfect, come on Todd, we have to show her.” Dirk appears at the end of Todd’s aisle, and Todd just has to roll his eyes, and carries the dresses he’s scrounged up above his head by their hangers, wading back to the the door they came through, feeling like the Pevensie children emerging from Narnia after decades of knowing nothing but that land. He feels like he has lived his entire life in this room.

“Amanda, I have found your wedding dress, you have no need to keep looking.” Dirk makes their entrance far too confident and ostentatious, holding said dress above his head.

“And I have found some options if he’s wrong.” Todd adds, rolling his eyes.

Amanda snorts at them and gives Dirk an annoyed by hopeful smile. “Show me the dress, Dirk.” She says, and gestures absently with her hands.

He lowers the dress gently, and holds it so that they can see it. The top is simple, looks like a singlet top, or a camisole, with a little bit of detailing around the neckline, and then a wide waistband, and a rich in texture, but otherwise simple, long skirt. The back is held together with a few little buttons and then a zipper in the skirt.

It’s simple. But it’s very her. Dirk might have displayed the right amount of confidence in the dress.

“Alright, I’ll go try it on.” Amanda says, obviously trying to feign disinterest.

She just about skips to the change room.

Todd smiles.

“Man, I think you actually did it.” He says, trying not to sound even a bit bitter. “I think you actually pleased my sister.”

Dirk laughs. “All in the job description.”

~

“This is almost perfect!” Amanda says, turning in front of the mirror. “Almost worth giving up the boots for-“

“I can’t believe that you’re still stuck on the boots,” Todd says, and she glares at him.

“Well it’s clearly missing cape-y train-y thing,” Dirk says like Todd never spoke. “But that’s easy enough to make and add. And it’s not too long, so there’s a chance at wearing comfortable shoes. Add flowers and whatever you’re wearing on your head-“

“I’m clearly wearing a spiky crown, Dirk, I couldn’t not-“ Amanda says, rolling her eyes, as if such a thing is obvious.

“And it all be perfect. Wait, I’ll show you,” He dashes over to the veils and grabs the longest one and holds it to the back of her dress, to imitate the effect he was describing. “See?”

Amanda appraises the whole picture, and Todd knows that she’s making a show of it. It’s clear to him that she has already chosen this dress.

~

**5.**

  
It's a week before the wedding is scheduled, and Amanda decides to take Dirk and Todd out to a bar for another full night's drinking. She says if worse comes to worse, they can at least crash in the back room, since she's chill with the owner, and while Todd’s not that keen on hanging out on a musty sofa behind the bar that probably smells like piss and weed, he appreciates the gesture.

Dirk seems less excited, but three shots later has regained his normal chirpiness, if a bit more forced and slurred. He's more relaxed and more giggly, and Amanda’s taken to whispering in his ear, every so often, which doesn't bode well for Todd and the butterflies in his stomach.

He resolves to drown them with shots and hope they won't be back in the morning.

~

"Pool is impossible until one has sacrificed the appropriate amount of beverages to the Gods of Pool." Amanda says and finishes off her beer, cue clutched in her other hand.

"What does that entail?" Dirk inquires, chin on her shoulder, and arms around her waist. It's sickeningly intimate. Todd downs another shot. He wishes he could be a normal fucking brother and stay out of everyone's business and not fall in love with his sisters goddamned fiancé.

"Man," Amanda slurs, pushing Dirk away with a laugh and stealing one of Todd's shots. "Just straight up pour a shot on the table and hope you win."

  
~

There comes a point in the night when everything becomes blurry, and drifts together. And it’s probably because of the five shots Todd drank in a span of about fifteen minutes. But, in any case, it’s just snippets.

Things like; Amanda literally pouring a shot onto the pool table, immediately regretting it, and suggesting they don’t play pool after all.

Dirk smiling at him like the sun is shining out of his face.

Amanda meeting some guy who looks strangely familiar at the bar and flirting shamelessly. Dirk seemingly not noticing.

Drinking with Dirk, trying to avoid the topic of Amanda, because she’s still at the bar, batting her eyelashes, as if her fiancé isn't _right there_.

Deciding he’s had enough, and telling Dirk that he’s going home. Dirk calling a cab, and getting into it with him, saying that he needs to make sure that he gets home safely.

Dirk walking him to his door, and the last of Todd’s restraint giving out. He doesn’t remember the kiss itself, but knows that he kissed Dirk, and Dirk kissed him back with a sigh, and Todd grabbed him by the jacket and dragged him inside, as if he could persuade him to _stay, just stay_.

~

When he wakes up, it's not immediately clear, but rolling over and finding another body in his bed loudly proclaims that Dirk did, indeed, stay.

And Todd’s got to be damned for this.

It's bad enough that he's having feelings like these at all. But the fact that Dirk is naked, in his bed, sleeping soundly, and Todd put him there? No, Todd is definitely going to hell. If there's a hell. They'll probably make a hell, just so Todd can go there, because this is that bad.

Todd lurches away from Dirk, effectively kicking him in the legs and falling out of bed. He hits his head on the bedside table on the way down. He feels numb to it, besides the pain that was already in his head, _fucking hangover_. He never should have accepted Amanda’s invitation, he should have stayed home and cried in bed and ate ice cream.

Dirk is definitely awake, and when he peeks over the side of the bed to look down, he doesn't seem at all surprised to see Todd. Todd on the floor, maybe, but not Todd as a person. Todd’s just glad the blanket fell a little, too, and is at least sparing him with a little dignity.

“Good morning to you too,” Dirk mumbles, and slumps against the bed, so his face is half-squashed against the mattress and Todd’s foot rests against his chest. Todd’s other foot brushes lightly against Dirk’s hair, and he honestly looks like he's been in a fight with a hair dryer, because it's blown up and around and somehow spiked by what Todd can assume were his fingers. It's ridiculous.

What's even more ridiculous is how unsurprised Dirk is, like he's not even a little shocked. Like he always expected to cheat on Todd’s sister with Todd.

It makes Todd feel sick to his stomach.

“Oh my god.” He groans and covers his face with his hands, trying to stave off what he can only assume is a panic attack. He focuses on his breathing and rolls over, legs off the bed, pulling the blanket with him as he rolls into the recovery position. He's gonna vomit.

Dirk makes an unimpressed noise. “Tell me you have running water here.”

Todd peels his hands away from his face and looks up at Dirk. “That's what you're worried about, right now?” He says, voice hoarse and scratchy.

Dirk shrugs a little, before turning onto his back and sitting up, stretching with his arms above his head and _now is not the time time, Todd, stop ogling the back muscles of your sisters fiancé_.

“Well, I don't know about you, but I feel pretty gross.” Dirk says, and finishes stretching, leaning back on the heels of his hands, legs crossed. He looks down at Todd and gives him a look that seems to be a mixture of fondness and amusement. “If you don't want me to shower in your apartment, that's fine, but I'd really rather not go out while I still stink of Smirnoff.”

“I can't believe this.” Todd groans, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the light that's hurting his head. He needs an Advil so bad, but he knows he just ran out. “God, I'm such an asshole. I'm the worst, how could I fucking do this?"

"What on _earth_ are you talking about?" Dirk inquires. Todd can't see his face, but he can imagine the fondness and amusement is fading only to be replaced with confusion and annoyance. Maybe not annoyance. Dirk doesn't do annoyed.

"I slept with you." Todd says, in answer, hoping Dirk will finally get a clue and realise just exactly what they've done.

"Yes.” Comes Dirk’s slow reply. Todd uncovers his eyes and Dirk is staring down at him with what can only be described as a coy look. “I thought you were aware of this."

How can one guy not get a hint? Is Dirk actually really dumb and Todd was too busy drooling over his cuteness that he never noticed? "I am fully aware of this! And that's why I'm the worst!” The yelling hurts his head, but it's necessary. Todd gets up, pulling the blanket along with him to cover him, leaving Dirk behind with the sheet. “I had sex with you! And I knew it was wrong!"

"Todd, unless you were unaware, sex is kinda a two-or-more situation. It's not really a singular person thing. If there's anything wrong about it, we're both in the wrong.” He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, face cupped in his hands, and arches an eyebrow at Todd. “On the other hand, what exactly was so bad about the sex that makes you think it was wrong?"

Todd would laugh if he wasn't so unequivocally and irreversibly fucked. Figuratively and literally, in this case. "I slept with you, and you're getting married in a week!" Todd cries, nearly dropping his quilt as he gestures wildly.

  
"Um... _well_ ,” Dirk says, blinking rapidly at both Todd and the floor. He gives a nervous sort of smile and clears his throat. “ _Well_. No one told _me_ that was happening."

Todd doesn't really think that this is the time for jokes. "God, I am the worst." He says to the wall over Dirk’s shoulder.

The smile slowly fades from Dirk’s face and he furrows his eyebrows, trying to meet Todd’s eyes. "Todd.” He says. “I am doing no such thing."

Todd slowly registers what Dirk said. He cannot be the guy that broke up the wedding. _He cannot be the reason his sisters first stable relationship in years fails_. "Yes, you are.” Todd insists, advancing quickly on Dirk. He supposes he must look dead serious or something, because Dirk scrambles across the bed. “Whatever this was, this can't influence what's happening, you have to get married."

"No, Todd,” Dirk insists, eyes wide with disbelief, “I'm not _getting married_."

"I can't do this.” Todd whispers and finds his briefs flung over the couch. He tugs them and his jeans on. “I need to think, I need to leave. I'm so sorry."

Todd pulls on a t-shirt and a jacket and runs out. "Todd!" Dirk shouts after him, but Todd can't bring himself to turn back.

  
~

Todd turns his phone off after Dirk calls him for the fourth time. He needs to think. He needs to forget and pretend he's not the worst brother ever.

Except that he has to go with Amanda to pick up her dress. So Todd's running across town in last night's clothes, hoping Amanda's too hungover to notice.

She's waiting outside the store when he arrives. She gives him a very unimpressed look. Looking very not-hungover.

"Have a fun night?" Amanda asks, a laugh in her voice.

Todd rubs his neck and pants a little. "You could say that." He replies. "How are you so chirpy? Weren't you absolutely shitfaced last night?"

"Yeah," Amanda agrees and passes him an Advil and a water bottle from her purse because she's apparently more prepared for this than he is. "The difference between you and I is that the people I go home with actually care if I'm still shitfaced when I go to sleep."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Todd asks, unscrewing the bottle cap and swallowing the pill with a mouthful of lukewarm water. He passes her back the bottle but she presses it to his hand, giving him a look like _you need it more than I do_.

"That means I was driven home by a completely sober independent body, fed water and bread, showered, and tucked in, and woke up to pancakes and Advil.” Amanda replies, and nods approvingly as Todd takes a long drink from the bottle, after realising how thirsty he is. “You however, took the bus home, drank more beer at home, probably had very messy, embarrassing sex, and fell asleep shitfaced."

"Don't assume about my sex, I don't want to hear about it.” Todd groans and pushes his hair away from his face. “And I took a cab, for your information.”

Amanda snorts. “Because that's somehow better. Classy, you could almost say.”

“Fuck off.” Todd says, and frowns at her. “Out of curiosity, who tucked you in?"

"Martin? _Duh_?" Amanda replies, as if it’s obvious.

Todd purses his lips and takes another sip of water before saying, "How is that a duh?"

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Are you serious right now?" Amanda asks, and opens the alteration shops door with her shoulder.

"Never mind. I am...I - I can't deal with anything this morning.” Todd says, waving a hand, and standing off to the side of the room, as Amanda speaks to the lady behind the counter.

The lady walks into the room behind the counter and Amanda joins him by the window. “You okay? You're looking really pale.”

“I've been up for half an hour and I already feel a stroke coming on." Todd groans, and leans his head against the glass. He can't find anything in him that has regard for whoever keeps the window clean.

"Yep. That's the Smirnoff.” She grins. “Twenty minutes, tops, you'll be puking in a trash can."

"That's cheerful." Todd comments.

"I've had experience. I'm well aware of how this works." She takes a quick drink from her own water bottle. "So, how was Dirk this morning? I've never seen him hungover before."

Todd spits out his water on the carpet. He feels blood rush to his head. "Wait...you knew?"

Amanda gives him a weird look. "Of course I knew. Jesus, do you think I'm dumb?" She rolls her eyes and walks over to the counter, again.

"No, I just…” Todd is beyond confused, and shakes his head to clear the image of how hurt Dirk looked when he rushed out, earlier. He follows her across the carpet, giving the water stain a guilty look. “Why are you being so chill about this?"

"It's not like he was getting some anywhere else.” Amanda shrugs. “Martin said I should take pity on him."

"Wait.” He says, holding both hands up, palms up, to stop her. “So, you're _actually_ cheating on Dirk with Martin?"

Amanda stares at him. The lady comes out from the back with Amanda's dress and a receipt. Amanda takes both items wordlessly, as well as Todd's elbow, and strides out to the store.

"What the fuck." Amanda says, and bursts into laughter.

"What is so funny about this?” Todd demands, attempting to shake off the feeling of mortified nausea rising in his throat. “I am so confused!"

"You're not the only one confused, buddy.” She says, fighting off the rest of her giggles. She holds up a hand, the other one resting on her knee to support her, and Todd watches her even out her breathing. “Okay. Okay, okay. Lemme get this straight, you think I'm marrying Dirk?"

Todd's stomach drops. "Are you saying you're not?"

"Nope. Dirk is my maid of honour.” At Todd’s half-horrified, half-disbelieving look, Amanda adds, “He insisted on the title."

"If you're not marrying Dirk, who are you marrying?" Todd asks.

"Martin." And, yes, that does seem to be the obvious answer, doesn't it? And now that she says it, all the worrying, confusing parts of the last three months make sense.

  
"Wasn't he making the cake?" He still asks, stupidly.

"He is making the cake!” She bursts out, still looking a little amused, but mostly irritated. “He is also my fiancé!"

"Oh my god."

"You thought I was openly cheating on Dirk with my cake caterer?" Amanda questions and Todd honestly feels like the dumbest person on the planet.

"...yes?"

"And you slept with Dirk, last night, yes?"

"Yes."

"You thought he was cheating on me with you, and I was cheating on him with Martin?" This line of questioning is just getting worse with every sentence.

"Yes." Todd feels a flush in his cheeks as he says this.

"You goddamn fucking idiot.” Amanda says, punching him in the shoulder. She looks incredulous, now. “Why the fuck did you think I was marrying _Dirk_?"

"He was always with you! He kept hugging you, and passing you drinks, and organising shit, and kissing your cheek and shit!” Amanda laughs. “Hey! Neither of you ever claimed otherwise!"

"What about the entire conversation when he talked about his maid of honour speech?" She asks, and Todd isn't sure whether she's actually mad or just amused in that slightly irritated manner that usually follows Todd fucking up.

"I was piss drunk the day you were talking about speeches." He tells her, and she passes him her dress, still in its plastic dry-cleaner bag.

"You're a mess." Amanda rubs her temples. "You slept with Dirk. What did you say after? This morning? Was he even awake when you left?"

Todd pales, "Oh god."

"’Oh god’ what?” Amanda says, and goes about as pale as Todd assumes he is. “‘ _Oh god_ ’ what? What did you do?"

"I may have…” Todd swallows and avoids her gaze, which bores into the side of his head as he stares intently at a car parked in the curb across the road. “I may have yelled a bit."

"I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO HOOK YOU TWO UP SINCE YOU MET AND THE MINUTE IT HAPPENS YOU FUCK IT UP?" Amanda cries and Todd jumps, nearly dropping the dress.

"Amanda, listen-!" He begins and meets her eyes. He stops short when he sees the pure anger in them.

"No, _you_ listen!” She hisses, stabbing a finger at him and backing him into a fire hydrant. “He's _smitten_ with you! You hear? He's got the biggest fucking crush on you, and if I'm reading you right, you've probably _broken his heart_! You march back to your apartment, and you explain yourself! That explanation better be riddled with apologies, or I will send Martin's entire wedding party to wreck your apartment!”

Todd hasn't seen her this angry in years.

“Got it?" Amanda says.

"Yes." Todd breathes. Amanda takes back her dress and drags him away from the curb by his jacket sleeve.

"Good.” She nods. “Run boy, or I'll kick your ass."

  
Todd runs.

~

**+1**

  
Dirk is not at Todd’s apartment when Todd returns.

In his place, there's a tie patterned with little succulent plants, a singular red sock, and a post-it note on his kitchen bench.

_Gotta run, drink the Gatorade at your own risk, yes it was me who stole your yoghurt, and yes it was also me who spilled shampoo in your shower and didn't clean it up._

Todd checks his fridge - his twelve pack of vanilla yoghurt is gone, as he suspected.

He checks the shower and finds the (empty) shampoo bottle on the sink with a post-it note on it, with a scribbled _sorry!_ scrawled across it. Shampoo coats the bathtub floor.

Todd collapses on his bed, hoping to wait out the hangover, and turns on his phone. Four missed calls, and four subsequent voicemails from Dirk.

**(You have four (4) messages. To listen, press one (1). To exit voicemail-)**

_“I'm really confused, but also really hungover, and I'm pretty sure you just ran out of your apartment because you seem to think that Amanda and I are getting married and you've somehow messed it up, which I can assure you is not only ridiculous, but also incredibly wrong. I'm not marrying your sister, Todd. I hope you know that. Please call me back.”_

**(3 messages remaining)**

 

 

 

 

 

_“Todd, it's Dirk again. I've decided that in interest of both of our hangovers, and my own health, that I'm going to utilise your apartment. I'll buy you Gatorade to make up for it all. Farah tells me that Gatorades have loads of electrolytes or something that restore your health or things like that. I'm not really sure if that's true, but if it is that seems like a mainstream healing potion to me. Anyway, I'm not sure when you'll be back, so I don't know whether to tell you to expect me there or not. Bye!”_

**(2 messages remaining)**

_“Todd. It's Dirk. You know who I am. Don't drink the Gatorade - it tastes hideous. I'm stealing your yoghurt to make my mouth stop tasting like ‘Mango Extremo’ but I'm not sure if it will help.”_

**(1 messages remaining)**

_“Todd. There's been an incident and I'm going to be out of town until the wedding. Extend my apologies to Amanda, tell her that the flower arrangements will be fine, they just had a bit of a mishap and Bart and Ken and I are driving to Oklahoma to get them. I'll be at the wedding. See you, Todd.”_

**(No messages remaining. To replay the messages, press one (1). To delete a message, press two (2). To call back, press three (3). To exit voicemail, press four (4).)**

Todd exits voicemail, and turns off his phone with a click, burying his face in the pillow that smells faintly of leather and Smirnoff.

He'll tell Amanda that he can't apologise to Dirk yet, and he'll tell Amanda that a mishap had her flowers somehow delivered to Oklahoma, and he'll tell Amanda that, yes, he is an idiot, but he's not going to confess his feelings to Dirk over the phone while the other man is on the road to Oklahoma in respects of his duties as Maid of Honour, but not yet.

If he ever confesses his feelings to Dirk, it will be in person, face-to-face, with no interruptions.

Todd falls asleep with the intention of only napping for a few hours, but wakes up in the early evening with twelve missed calls from Amanda, two from Farah, one from an unknown number, and a raging headache.

So, yeah, that sums up Todd’s feelings on the sudden road trip to Oklahoma.

~

The unknown number turns out to be Farah’s combination girlfriend-slash-plus-one to the wedding, Tina Teventino, who left him the strangest voicemail he's ever heard. What makes this voicemail even more extraordinary, is that she appears to be entirely sober during the entire thing.

Todd can't make himself replay it, but calls her back, just to see what she says on the fly.

“Toddy B!” Tina crows on the other end of the phone, and Todd winces at the volume. “What can I do for you on this fine evening?”

“We have never met before.” Todd states with something like a laugh in the back of his throat.

“And yet I can already feel a best friendship coming on.” She sighs, wistfully. “Can’t you?”

Todd blinks, and nods a little. “Sure. Yeah.” He rubs his forehead, leaning forward on his knees, legs swung over the side of the bed. “Listen, did Farah make you call me?”

“She did indeed, little man.” Tina responds, and there's a rustling sound like a quilt cover crinkling. “You wanna speak to her? She's right here.”

Todd pauses. “Am I interrupting something?” He asks.

Tina laughs in the other end of the phone. There's another rustling noise and soft speaking on the other end of the phone which Todd can't quite make out.

“Wouldn't put it past Tina to pick up the phone at awkward times.” Farah says. Todd sighs in somewhat relief, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise at the prospect of Farah knowing what he's done. “So, Amanda tells me there was a bit of a mix up with you and the Maid of Honour. Not very honourable, if you ask me.”

Tina starts cackling in the background. Todd groans. “Don't remind me.” He says.

“Why did you think Amanda was marrying Dirk?” Farah asks, Tina’s laughter sinking into simple snickering. “Did you not read the invitations? They very _clearly_ said Amanda and Martin.”

“I actually never really got involved in the organisation of invitations.” Todd says, sheepishly, knowing his reason won't help his case. “Dirk got bored and we went to the arcade instead.”

“I…” Farah trails off. “Oh my god, you idiot.”

“I didn't know!” Todd cries, rubbing his face with the heel of his palm, in frustration. It's all horribly embarrassing. “Amanda never dropped a name, and I knew she'd been dating someone, but I never knew who! And then she introduced me to Dirk and I just assumed! They never said anything to make me think otherwise!”

“Didn't you meet Martin?” Farah questions, a hit of a laugh in her voice. Of course she's finds this funny. If Todd knew Tina any better, he'd have the nerve to blame her presence. “I swear Amanda said you met Martin.”

“I...did.” He agrees, reluctantly.

“And you were just completely oblivious of the constant state of sickening flirting they're in?” Tina chimes in, voice slightly muffled because of her reduced proximity to the phone.

“No, I...noticed.” Todd clears his throat and repeats, “I noticed,” in a more level voice.

“How the hell did you miss that _they_ were the ones getting married?” Farah cuts back in, and there's a rustling noise, followed by a muffled thump and Tina laughing hysterically.

“Did you just push Tina off your bed?” He asks, sitting up in his own and swinging his legs over the edge.

“She deserved it.” Farah responds, matter-of-factly. “And you're avoiding the question, Todd.”

Todd feels his mouth twist in that sour way that usually follows a foul smell. “I kinda thought Amanda was cheating on Dirk with Martin.” He rushes out.

There's a long pause, punctuated by Tina’s aborted laughter. Todd presses his lips together, bracing himself for the onslaught of Farah’s predictable disbelief.

“What the fuck is wrong with you.” She eventually murmurs, and Todd can almost imagine her rubbing her temples to ward off a headache.

“Everything.” He replies, as cheerfully as he can. This does not seem to help her, in any way. “This is mortifying.”

“I know, it’s been hilarious to watch it happen.” There’s a hint of humour in her voice, and he hears Tina just about piss herself laughing on the other end.

“Wait…” Todd pauses at the implications of that. “Did you know that I thought… and you _didn’t_ tell me?”

“I might have,” She says quickly, “but in my defence, it was really funny, and I didn’t think it would end this disastrously. Honestly I thought you’d just get a shock at the actual wedding.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a chaotic evil, why would you let me do this?” Todd accuses.

And if the rustle of fabric on the other end of the phone is anything to go by, she shrugs. Farah says. “There were engagement photos on Facebook, Todd!”

“I'm not on Facebook!” Todd says for what must be the fiftieth time in the last three months. Tina starts cackling again.

~

Todd drinks the Gatorade, and then vomits in the toilet. He showers to try and shake off whatever's left of the nausea and the hangover and spends a lot of it trying to get the dried shampoo off of the tub. He has absolutely no idea how Dirk managed to cover every possible surface in shampoo.

Todd entertains the idea of him doing it on purpose for a second, and then dismisses it.

He spends fifteen minutes after the shower wondering if he should call Dirk back, and then dismisses that thought too. He won't. Not yet. Dirk’s busy. Dirk’s probably angry at him, and just being polite. Dirk doesn't want to hear from him.

Todd texts Amanda instead.

_Dirk’s gone out of town with your florist._

It's vague enough to gauge a response, and also vague enough to display his passive-aggressiveness towards the subject of working everything out.

_that's ominous. although, i suppose Dirk and Bart eloping was just a matter of time._

Todd snorts.

_Nah, she's not the type. And I'm pretty sure that they're foster siblings, so Ew. On the other hand, your flowers somehow ended up in Oklahoma, so you’re Maid Of Honour-less for the time being._

Her response to this is almost immediate.

_fuck_

~

Todd’s been sitting at a table at the local coffee shop for about fifteen minutes, waiting to meet Farah and Tina, and he has half the mind to just put his head down on the table and power nap. No sleep the night prior means an absolute lack of energy today, and no coffee seems to remedy it.

He's not sure why Farah called this meeting, although he has an inkling that it might just be to laugh at him some more. Farah’s not quite that cruel, but, at this point, he can think of no other reason that she'd want to see him before the wedding.

Todd checks his phone again - they're ten minutes late - and takes another sip of coffee, just in time for a blonde woman in a big hat, sunglasses, and a navy blue trench coat to sit down across from him. Todd stares.

“You got the stuff?” The woman asks, from the corner of her mouth, not turning to look at him, and instead facing the coffee shop.

“Uh...what?” Todd replies, oh-so-eloquently. The woman turns and arches an eyebrow above her sunglasses so he can see it. Todd wonders, wildly, if he's somehow managed to stumble into some kind of drug deal.

Suddenly, the woman bursts into vaguely familiar laughter and whips off her sunglasses. “I'm just messin’ with you! I'm kidding!” She waves her hand at someone over Todd’s shoulder. “Farah, come on over here!”

Todd hasn't stopped staring, though he knows who she is, now.

Tina stands up, stripping off the trench coat to reveal ratty jeans and a worn-in muscle top underneath. “You are Todd, right? ‘Cause I'm real sorry if you're just some random stranger that I've interrupted.”

“Technically I am a random stranger.” Todd replies, having finally found his voice. Tina laughs again and lean in, patting his cheek.

“Not to me, you aren't.” At this point, Farah appears by her side, winding an arm around her waist and taking the trench coat from Tina’s hand. “Ey, you shoulda seen his face, he was so confused.”

Farah smiles and kisses Tina’s cheek. “Yeah, I should've known I was dating a chaotic evil.”

“Psh, as if you're not a closet chaotic evil yourself.” Tina deflects. “Anyway, I'll go and get coffee, you want a muffin or something? Ooh, wait, does this place do scones?” At Todd’s nod she squeals and rushes in.

Farah takes Tina’s abandoned seat and drapes the trench coat (which Todd now recognises must be hers) over the back of it. “So. Oklahoma.”

Todd nods and takes a long sip from his coffee. “Yep. No warning. Just Gatorade in my kitchen, shampoo all over my bathroom, and some truly weird voicemails. Does Dirk often go about popping in and out of your life?”

“That's not an ‘often’ thing.” Farah responds, using her fingers to indicate air quotes. “That's his constant state of being.”

“Oh.” Todd is distressed to find a lump in his throat at this. “So...Oklahoma?”

“Oklahoma.” Farah echoes, nodding. “I mean, he'll be back, but this isn't shocking. What's shocking to me is that he'd willingly tag along with his foster sister on a roadtrip with the guy she's pining for, and has been pining for for years. Like, that's probably one of the dumbest things he's ever done, and yes, I am counting the time he tried to adopt a possum while drunk.”

“We’re telling the possum story?” Tina arrives back at the table with a muffin, a plate of scones, and two coffees, and sets one in front of Farah. There’s a quick but romantic peck on the cheek in return, and Todd almost has to look away.

“I was just gonna skim over it, actually.” Farah replies after her first sip.

“But it's so _funny_!” Tina protests, albeit weakly.

“You only think it's funny because you told him it was a good idea.”

“Like telling a drunk man that ‘yes, that is a weird cat, why don’t you pet it?’ has ever _not_ been funny.” Tina counters.

“Wait,” Todd says, “What happened with the possum?”

“Okay, so, Dirk and Farah were staying at my house, and we all got so drunk, right?” Tina begins, as if all the best stories start with excessive amounts of drinking. “Man, Dirk drunk is a sight to see, let me tell you. Eighth wonder of the world, truly a gift to mankind-“

“Anyways,” Farah interrupts, giving Tina an amused look, “Dirk goes outside, and a couple of minutes calls us outside. And he’s standing with his back to us, and we’re like ‘Dirk, what’s up?’ And he turns around, with this possum cuddled up in his arms, and we’re both on red alert at this point, because who picks up a possum? You just don’t do it, they’re so _unsanitary_ , not to mention their claws are incredible sharp, and-“

“So,” Tina cuts back in, and Todd can't say he isn't enthralled with their bizarre storytelling technique, “he tells us he found a stray cat, that he thinks maybe it might be feral, or a mutt, because it looks really odd, but it just in need of a little TLC to set it right, and Farah’s about to tell him to put it down, and obviously I couldn’t let that happen before I got a picture, so I interrupted, and told him he must be right, it needs a lot of petting, and his face lights up like he’s just had a revolutionary epiphany, and he takes one of his hands off it to pet it, and the thing goes _ballistic_. Just fuckin’ scrambles, and scratches him, bites him even and runs off into the night, leaving him bleeding, shocked, and confused. The saddest creature on earth-“

“So as the soberest person present, I drove Dirk and the Wicked Witch of the West, here-“

“Hey, my cackle isn’t that bad, I resent that-“

“To the emergency room for an emergency rabies shot, and she’s right, he was just the saddest thing that ever existed, kept mumbling about just wanting to pet the cat, he had no idea why it bit him like that, he cried a bit, and at that point everything painful had been done.” Farah stops for breath, and sips some foam off the top of her coffee. “It was insane.”

It does sound insane. But so like Dirk. Of course he mistook a possum for a freaking cat.

“While that story is hilarious,” Farah says, ever the sensible one of the group, “we need to talk about the situation in Oklahoma. Your sister, while still a little mad and amused that you thought she was openly cheating on her Maid of Honour with her actual fiancé, has nominated you as her backup Maid of Honour. Despite the fact that I am _obviously_ a better candidate.”

“You’re a little tightly wound, I’m certain she wants a calming presence-“ Tina says, and Farah glares at her.

“Anyways, we have no idea how this flower issue is going to resolve itself, and so it’s looking quite likely that you’re gonna have to go on for Dirk. What I’m saying is,” Farah fixes him with a serious look, showing him that in no way is she joking, “you’re gonna have to prepare a speech. And I forbid, on her behalf, there to be any tales of when she was travelling with your band, or any story from the time she was thirteen through twenty one. She has also forbidden any mention of the family roadtrip to Orlando.”

“So I’m not allowed to talk about her?” Todd asks.

“You’re correct in that assumption.”

“Great.”

~

_This is so dumb because I've spent the last three months thinking you were in love with and getting married to my sister and now I'm aware that you_

No.

_I thought you were_

No.

_Is there even a minor chance that you could feel anything even vaguely romantic for me? I mean, I'm guessing ending up together was a mutual choice_

God no.

_Gatorade tastes like ass. I miss you. Why did you have to run off to Oklahoma just when I realised that it was okay for me to like you like_

He's so bad at this. How can he be this bad at this?

_Dirk, I'm a grumpy asshole, and I have no idea what you could ever see in me, but I want to see where this goes_

Why does writing a simple text confessing his feelings to a man halfway across the country have to be this complicated? Why can't he just out and say it?

_Dirk, I know I'm an idiot, and by all accounts you're out of my league, but do you think you could give me another chance?_

This is so hard. It shouldn't be this hard to profess his feelings to a guy he thought was hardcore Off Limits for three months.

_No homo but I think I'm in love with you_

Definitely not. Todd’s gonna die.

~

Dirk arrives in that way that the last party popper crack arrives in a full but otherwise silent room. Todd’s standing out front of the castle, on Amanda’s request, trying to get signal to call Bart or Ken and see where they're at, as people are beginning to arrive.

A car covered in mud pulls up and Dirk immediately jumps out of the backseat, catching a vase of flowers before it shatters itself on the ground. This is not as shocking as the fact that Dirk is only wearing his red leather jacket, boxers, and nothing else. He catches Todd staring and grins at him, waving.

Todd continues to stare as Ken and Bart exit the car in a similar fashion, also dressed down to their underthings, although Ken has a shock blanket draped over his shoulders.

Todd takes the time to snap a picture of the entourage and send it to Farah, captioned “I’m starting to wonder just how appropriate this wedding is for my parents”. He stuffs his phone in his pocket and walks over to them, helping Ken with a vaguely-askew arrangement.

“Welcome back.” He huffs, lowering the vase onto the ground. “Where are your clothes?”

“Funny story, that.” Dirk chirps, fluttering around the car and not really helping his companions. “See, we vaguely got kidnapped by a biker gang-slash-cult-”

“You what?” Todd asks, shocked. He was expecting something along the lines of Dirk having bet their clothes for something and losing the bet.

“The car broke down in the middle of Kansas, on this empty country road, and this lovely guy on a motorbike stopped and fixed it up for us,” Dirk explains, animatedly, and Todd makes the conscious decision to not look down at his boxers while he's telling the story of how he, assumedly, almost died. “But then he knocked us out and we woke up tied to this real complicated pyre in a corn field.”

“Jesus Christ.” Todd mutters. Bart slams the backseat door closed and carries a large cardboard box full of what Todd is assuming are table centrepieces around the car.

“Yeah, so this cult comes out and explains that they're gonna kill us and use the car for spare parts and then fuckin’ police descend from the sky or something and arrest every single one of ‘em.” Bart cuts in, and Todd half-expects Dirk to shoot her annoyed look. He just looks fond. Todd forgot they were foster siblings. “They said we were ‘integral to finding this gang-slash-cult’. Whatever.”

“Anyway, they never bothered to give us clothes, so we picked up the flowers in our underwear.” Ken finishes, and closes the drivers side door.

“Can tick that off the bucket list.” Bart mutters and bumps hers and Ken’s elbows together with a soft look.

“Not the only thing you can tick off the - _ow_!” She slams her elbow into Dirk’s stomach before he can finish, glaring at him. “Okay! Sorry!”

“We’re gonna get these inside and then go home for clothes.” Ken says, and Todd doesn't miss the way he glances to Bart and the way Bart smiles at the ground, just a little bit. “Can you guys let Amanda know we might be a bit late?”

“Of course.” Todd agrees, watching, them, cautiously. “Thanks, guys.”

He touches Dirk’s arm, and instead of soft skin finds a bandage. It runs the length of Dirk’s wrist.

“Geez, what happened?” Todd asks.

“I cut myself on some of the barbed wire they put on the pyre. It's all good.” Dirk explains away, nonchalantly. At Todd’s dubious look, he adds, “I didn't lose too much blood.”

Todd laughs at this and nods. “If you're sure.”

“I'm sure.” Dirk agrees.

“So,” he says and Dirk hums, “what was up with those two?”

“Well, we stayed overnight in Oklahoma - I honestly find it really funny that no one mentioned our lack of clothes, no one even blinked - and, well, Ken was still a little shaken, since he's never been in quite as ridiculous a situation as that before, so Bart was comforting him and...well, I'm assuming that you know she's in love with him?”

“Yeah...I did.” Todd agrees.

“Mm, well,” Dirk says, and a corner of his mouth lifts up in a smile, “I hid out in the bathroom for a while.”

“Oh my god.” Todd laughs, and Dirk joins in, after a second.

“Svlad.”

Dirks shoulders tighten, and his face, which just before was as warm as sunlight dappled through trees, becomes hard and cold. “ _Hugo_. I didn’t know Martin was planning to invite you lot here.”

Todd looks over Dirk's shoulder to find a well dressed blonde man with the most infuriating smirk he has ever seen. Todd immediately decides he doesn’t like this Hugo.

“You guys are family. Dad and I would never miss out on a good wedding.” The tone in his voice is so disingenuous, full of lies, it wouldn’t take a pro to figure out that Hugo has ulterior motives here.

“Bart and I got restraining orders. You can’t be here. You need to leave, and so does your father, if he’s here. I don’t want to see him.” Dirks jaw is tight, like he’s grinding his teeth to stop from committing bodily harm.

Todd is so close to forming a human shield between the two of them. “Don’t be like that, _Icarus_.”

Dirk winces, and Todd decides that enough is enough. “Hey, asshole, you’re clearly not welcome here. I’m making an executive decision as the Bride's brother and telling you to get the fuck away from here.”

“Got yourself a boyfriend, Icarus?”

The look Todd gives him is radiating anger as he takes Dirks hand, and leads him away from the man.

Once inside, and walking up to where Amanda is getting ready and Dirks suit is waiting, Dirk makes a small sniffling noise, and Todd pushes him into an alcove.

“Are you okay?” He lifts Dirks chin with a hand, no part of his brain screaming not to stroke Dirk’s cheek as he does so. There are tears streaking their way down his cheeks, and Todd wipes them away. “Tell me what you need.”

“I-“ Dirk sobs. “ _Hold me_?”

Todd nods in acquiescence, and wraps his arms around Dirks middle, pulling him in tight, stroking a hand up and down his back, pretending like he doesn’t feel the heaving sobs against him.

“It’s okay. I’ll get Martin's friends, the ones Amanda calls the Rowdies? They’ll get them out of here quick smart.”

“They won’t. We’re all foster siblings, they all got the same name. Fucking cruel. Even Vogel. Grouped them, together, all of them got the same treatment. All of them got punished the same if one stepped out of line. They’ll be like me.” Dirk heaves a breath in, and stutters a breath out.

“I’ll call the police. You said you have a restraining order against them? Surely we can call about this. We’ll sort this out. I promise. But right now, you need to focus on the wedding, I’ll take care of those assholes. Go placate Amanda.”

Dirk fixes him with a firm nod, and Todd can’t help the urge to reach back up and stroke his cheek again.

~

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but you’re going to have to leave the premises-“

Todd is interrupted by a rather stout looking moustached man. “This is a family event, young man. I’m here to see my son get married.”

Hugo, behind the man sets his shoulders back a fraction, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Todd scowls. “Who would you be?”

“Martins foster father.”

“Were you invited?”

“No, but really, I-“

“I’m going to have to ask you once more to leave, then, if yoU don’t, I’ll be forced to call the police for trespassing and the breaking of a restraint order against you. I’d advise you to leave now.”

The older man’s happy facade falls off. “Tell Icarus-“

“I won’t tell _Dirk_ anything from you. You don’t get to talk to him in any way. That’s what the restraining order is for. I’d advise you as well, not to try to contact him, or anyone of the children you abused again, or I won’t be nearly as cordial as I have been today. Leave. Now.”

The two linger for a moment before the older man waves a hand, and the both of them walk away from the venue, and Todd lets himself relax a little, knowing those two won’t be anywhere near his newfound patchwork family.

~

Todd enters Amanda’s dressing room with a soft knock and a cautious look around. He finds her, jeans and tank top on, running a lint roller down Dirk’s suit as he chatters about some horse with a dumb name.

“Amanda.” She turns to look at him and grins.

“Whaddup, dude?” She greets him, and Todd winces at the hint of something green stuck between her teeth. “How’re the flowers?”

“The wedding is in an hour and you're not ready!” He cries, almost on impulse, because if his mother isn't here to cause chaos, it's his job to, apparently.

She arches an eyebrow and shrugs. “Did you expect anything less?” Amanda inquires, running the lint roller over Dirk’s lapels and giving him thumbs up.

“No.” Todd sighs, resignedly. “The flowers are delivered. Ken and Bart ducked home to get dressed, since there was a mishap with some biker gang-slash-cult and they all lost their clothes. I just ran two assholes off the premise too, so both your fiancé and Maid of Honour can thank me for that.”

“Don't you mean my fiancé and the cake caterer that I'm having a rather conspicuous affair with?” She asks, teasingly.

“Har-har.” He flips her the bird and turns to their otherwise silent companion. “Dirk, can I have a word, outside?”

“Of course.” Dirk says and follows Todd out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

“How are you doing?” Todd asks, straight off. He feels awful at the half-shocked look on Dirk’s face.

“I'm- well, I'm fine, actually. What happened?”

“I threatened to call the police, told them to piss off. They're gone. Don't know why they thought they could just show up, especially with a restraining order against them. Like, Jesus, can't they get a hint?”

“I doubt it. Hugo has never been a big thinker, relies on Scott for any opinion or direction.” He gives a short, humourless laugh, and Todd’s soul aches for him. He can’t be fine to imagine the horror of his childhood, but knows that if he could, he would fix it all for the man standing in front of him.

“Yeah. Okay. They're gone.” Is all he manages to get out. Embarrassed, full of emotion he doesn’t know how to express, he turns to leave. He’s almost afraid he’ll cause Dirk more harm by staying.

“Wait, Todd.” Dirk calls, and there’s hope in Todd that reads his head at the words.

“Yes?”

“Can we...fuck. Can we talk about what happened right before I left?” He looks sheepish, and _god_ , why does he look guilty about it, when it’s all Dirks fault.

“How we slept together while I still thought you were marrying my sister?”

“Yes. Please.”

“I’m an idiot who doesn’t listen to literally anyone enough, and I’m so sorry for yelling at you about it, because, honestly, at that point I had been pining after you for months.”

Dirks cheeks gain a little colour, and he sees him try not to smile. “Hah, well, that’s good to know, because of course, I’ve been pining after you just a little, as well.”

It’s Todd’s turn to try not to smile. “Knowing what I know now, what I should have known then, I don’t regret it. Not at all. The only thing I regret is how little of it I remember.” He takes a breath, before taking a chance. “Can we try it sober next time?”

“Next time?” Dirk lights up like the sun, and Todd nearly doesn’t stop himself from shouting to the world how beautifully bright this man is.

“If you want?”

Dirk laughs a little, and leans down hesitantly, before pressing his lips chastely but firmly to Todd’s. It’s warm, and beautiful, and full of sunshine and promises, and trust, and Todd never wants it to end. “I very much want there to be a next time.” Dirk says breathlessly as he pulls away.

“Good. So do I.”

They smile, and Dirk rests his forehead against Todd’s.

Dirk pauses for a moment, and looks up at him. "Did you never wonder why I wasn't wearing an engagement ring?" Dirk asks, looking ready to burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Todd gapes. How could he have fucking missed that? "Fucking hell, you’re the exact kind of person who would insist on twin engagement rings." He says, and that's what tips Dirk over the edge.

Todd is actually, truly, mortified.

“Hey, if you idiots have got your acts together finally, would one of you come in here and help me with this mini death trap of a dress? These buttons are tiny!” Amanda calls through the door.

Todd chuckles. “I believe that’s a Maid of Honour duty. I’ll see you soon. Text me if you guys need anything?”

“One more kiss?” Dirk asks.

Todd smiles softly, and leans up a bit to fill that request.

~

The service was lovely, even if the officiator, Cross, swore quite a bit, and almost skipped over the rings. Amanda and Martin seemed to be having fun, either way. Todd’s parents did look a little aghast at the lack of traditional practices. Todd doesn't think that Amanda cares in the least.

Vogel, wearing the same red and black polka dot t-shirt below his suit jacket that he wore when Todd first met him, made a lovely flower girl, dumping whole tulips on the aisle and making Ken and Bart cringe beside Todd in their chairs. Gripps, broad-shouldered and wearing a grey beanie, walked Dirk up the aisle, being the Best Man and Maid Of Honour, respectively.

Todd both wants to forget the vows completely and wishes had videoed them.

But the real kicker was seeing Amanda get married, and seeing the look of absolute love on both of their faces. Todd doesn't know how he thought she was ever marrying anyone else. Martin hardly took his eyes off of her the whole service. He has no doubt the man will take good care of his sister.

After the wedding everyone is ushered out and spend time alternatingly out in the garden and in the foyer, drinking small glasses of champagne and eating weird canapés. Todd sticks close by Dirk’s side during, being so bold as to go and hold his hand, even when he introduces Dirk to his parents.

Bart sheds her suit jacket at the start of the reception, revealing that she and Ken are wearing matching waistcoats. Todd finds this unbelievably cute, but chooses not to mention it to them, wondering how likely Bart would be to stick a shattered wine glass in his throat. Farah and Tina find them by the bar, as the dancing starts, and then Dirk goes to look for more cocktail olives. Farah follows him, muttering something about not getting sued.

Tina leans beside Todd on the bar, and it is at this point that Todd discovers that he was right about Amanda’s dancing skills. She stumbles over herself. But Martin never lets her fall, and always manages to make it look graceful, even if Todd knows Amanda never meant to go for two dips in a row.

She looks at him like he hung the stars, but also like he let her climb up on his shoulders to help him, so that they could do it together.

“You know Dirk introduced them, right?” Tina says and Todd jumps, remembering that she's there. Tina cackles like the Wicked Witch of the West.

“I...actually didn't.” Todd admits, and that all seems to slot into place. Dirk being the Rowdy’s foster brother, and Bart being their foster sister, it makes sense that they'd be involved. What doesn't make sense is how Dirk knew Amanda. “When did Dirk meet Amanda?”

“She fixed up his car when it was in the shop.” She says and frowns at his confused look. “‘Cause she's a mechanic, right?”

“Right.” Todd agrees, aware that she'd fixed his car, but not that it was their first meeting.

“Anyway, he was in some crash or whatever and he was whining about it never getting fixed but Amanda took one look at it and said she could fix it. And she did.” She shrugs and looks back at the dancing couple, who are laughing at just how crap they're doing. “He asked her out to get a coffee and then invited her to a party.”

Todd finds this a little hard to believe. “How did he get invited to a party?” He asks.

“Hosted by the Rowdies. It was Bart’s birthday. Dirk saw them flirting a bit, got them drunk and shoved them in a closet.” Tina explains. She says it all so matter-of-factly that Todd has to wonder if this is common knowledge. Hopefully not, especially with their parents around.

“How do you know all this?” Todd says.

“Farah knows everything, and with a little persuading, she tells me everything.” She replies and then grins cheekily.

“I don't need to know how you persuade her.” He says, holding up his hands to stop her. “Don't tell me.”

“You’re no fun, Toddy B.” She’s grinning somehow wider.

“Todd!” He turns to the sound of his sisters overly cheerful voice, though he can’t imagine she would sound any other way on a day like this, and sees her dragging Martin, who he suddenly realises is now his brother in law, over to him. “I figured, since the whole misunderstanding, I should actually introduce you to my husband.”

She grins, and Todd smiles awkwardly up at Martin, who smiles tightly, quite different to the way he was looking at Amanda just before. Tina totters off, waving at someone in the distance.

“Todd,” and he knows this is going to be humiliating by the tone of her voice, she sounds like she’s going to incredibly condescendingly explain the colours of a rainbow to a three year old. “This is Martin, he’s the man I just married. Now, I can understand your confusion as to it being any other person up there. Cross, Gripps, Dirk, but I assure you that this is the man I married. Why don't you say hi?”

Todd tries not to sulk, and gives her the middle finger.

Martin laughs, and it's vaguely jarring in its abruptness. “Attitude runs deep with the Brotzman’s, huh?” He asks Amanda.

“Actually, our parents raised us to be incredibly polite, and you can probably tell how hard that backfired.” Todd replies. Martin raises an eyebrow.

“Certainly can. Nice to meet you officially, Todd.” Martin shakes Todd’s hand and it's just in the wrong side of firm, but far be it by Todd to complain. Martin looks like he could probably knock Todd to the ground in ten seconds flat, without breaking a sweat. “‘Manda never introduced you when you came into the shop, so I assumed you were a stalker o’ some sort.”

“It’s okay, I assumed you were the cake caterer that my sister was having an affair with, so I think that puts us on even ground.” The jarring laugh appears, once again, and Amanda grins at him, sticking close to Martin’s side. “Nice to meet you too, Martin.”

This is, of course, the exact moment that the rest of the Rowdies pick Amanda up and carry her back to the middle of the ballroom, insisting that she dance with them, and Martin follows on, a smile on his face, muttering something about them dropping his wife, and the consequences they might face if they do.

~

Dirk sighs, looking at Amanda and Todd’s young cousins dancing to The Beatles, and Martin and Amanda swaying in the middle of the dance floor, smiling so contentedly, so happily at each other. Martin's friends, the groomsmen, have been drinking all night, and Todd is honestly surprised that they haven’t caused havoc, or broken something yet.

Todd’s has only had two drinks so far, and he already feels unsteady on his feet, so he has no idea how those guys keep putting drinks away and staying upright.

“It’s so sweet,” Dirk says, a little wistfully, swaying dangerously with that champagne glass in his hand.

Todd hums in agreement. “It is.”

“Can we dance? Together I mean. I want to dance with you.”

“I’m not even certain you can _walk_ right now.” Todd laughs, a little unkindly.

“ _Please_?” Dirk pouts, and puts clasped hands up, as if to show how desperate he is.

And, as though to tell Todd that the universe intends for them to slow dance the night away, the Ella Fitzgerald version of ‘ _My Funny Valentine_ ’ starts up, and it’s too obviously a call to the dancefloor to them for him to ignore.

“Fine.”

Dirk smiles, and give a little leap of excitement before dragging him out next to Amanda, and now Vogel, and starting to sway. Todd rolls his eyes a little, even as his heart leaps a little at that bright smile.

It takes a moment to get into the rhythm of the music, and then they’re sidestepping, just about waltzing as though they had never had trouble dancing together before. Dirk gives a contented sigh, and leans down to rest his head on Todd’s shoulder, as Todd leads, and doesn’t voice the thought that if Dirk isn’t looking where they’re going, they’re most likely going to fall over, instead thinking about how warm, and nice, and _right_ this feels.

Amanda looks over, and smirks, and Todd sticks his tongue out at her, leading Dirk further to the middle of the floor, where less people can see them, savouring the feeling of Dirk's arms around his shoulders, holding him close, and forgetting to pretend like it doesn’t feel like coming home. 

 

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y’all enjoyed! We thought we might upload a whole lotta fluff and humour to make up for the angst fest we dropped the last time we uploaded. 
> 
> Find up on the blue hellsite under the usernames @nose-coffee and @cakesnake respectively. 
> 
> Comments will make us write our next fic faster!


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